Light a Fire
by therainydaykids
Summary: Gill has a serious case of denial about his feelings for Angela at the Moon Viewing Festival. Angela/Gill, Chase/Gill friendship.


**Summary:** Gill is in denial about his date with Angela, Chase is a reluctant wingman, and Jin makes an important diagnoses. Moon Viewing Festival oneshot!

 **A/N:** Shout out to Rachel Taylor for her fabulous EP, which is forever my writing soundtrack.

This story was inspired by Accidentally The Whole Fanfic's Pumpkin Equinox (an autumn themed writing fest) which got me thinking about the seasons awesome Harvest Moon festivals, and then this...Anyway, I encourage you all to check it out on The Village Square Forum! (My proper 'entry' is still a WIP, this is just some Fall fun).

* * *

 **Light a Fire**

 _Fire and the embers bright_

 _Will guide you through the night._

 _When it's cold outside_

 _I will light a fire._

Chase stared into the icy, heavy-lidded eyes of his companion with sharp disbelief. It was a look that would have sliced through a lesser man than Gill; the blonde didn't flinch, instead remaining stoic and resolute in the bars doorway. "Let me get this straight: your 'emergency' –" his words oozed with the sound of air quotations – "is _clothing advice_?"

As Gill strolled into the Brass Bar – a little after the official closing time – it felt as if a spell had been lifted off the establishment. The alluring hum of a bar in full swing had muted into an eerie quietness, one that was only broken with the creak of footsteps or the clatter of plates. Lights that usually casted an inviting glow over the patrons served only to bleed eerie shadows across the room, illuminating just how deserted the small array of tables and chairs were.

In a stark contrast to the bar's emptiness was the chef behind the counter and Gill, noticing his scowling expression, bristled. He clutched his vests defensively. "I did not say it was an emergency, I said it was a _crisis_. An emergency would require an evacuation procedure."

Watching Gill carefully select the cleanest barstool, Chase rolled his eyes. Muttering sarcastically, he replied: "Right. I have no idea how that difference slipped my mind."

"It happens. To tell you the truth, I've been awfully forgetful at the moment. I almost missed our autumn import deadline for dumpling flour…" a mournful sigh fell from Gills lips. "It would have been _awful_ if the townspeople hadn't been able to make dumplings for tomorrow's moon viewing."

"I can just see the town rioting over that," Chase deadpanned and his purple eyes honed in on Gill over the counter. Once again his stare was ferociously intense, but this time it threatened to drill straight into Gill's skull and crack his thoughts wide open. "Why are you so concerned about that festival anyway? I thought they were ' _a waste of time that could otherwise be used analysing economic graphs'_." Gill blanched as Chase snidely mimicked his words from last season, when he had told his friend he wouldn't be attending the Firefly Festival in favour of burning the midnight oil.

"The festivals are of utmost important to the townspeople. I wish to ensure they run smoothly." Sceptical, Chase's stare hardened; Gill buckled. "And…Angela asked me to escort her."

"Did she now?" Chase asked sardonically, feigning surprise.

Preoccupied with the memory of Angela appearing on his doorstep earlier today, and the way her cheeks had erupted brilliant pink in the crisp autumn breeze, Gill missed the insincerity that had spiked Chase's words. "Yes, she came by this morning and just asked - no preamble or anything. I was undoubtedly as shocked as you are…" Noticing that Chase was stacking glasses and polishing cutlery, Gill paused and asked: "Excuse me, Chase, are you listening?"

"No," Cutlery chimed as Chase dumped the spoons behind the counter. The chef sighed in exasperation. "If I wanted to listen to a ten act play about someone's love life, I'd talk to Kathy."

Gills lungs seized and he barely managed to stammer: "L-love life? Chase, w-what are you suggesting?"

Perplexed, Chase's eyebrows rose into the peach silk of his fringe. He paused for a moment and eyed the fork he was polishing thoughtfully. "I thought that was why you wanted to know which vest you should wear tomorrow."

"You didn't think, you _assumed,_ " Gill corrected. "But if you must know, tomorrow is my first public outing since I've returned to Castanet and it is imperative I make a good impression on the town."

"The townspeople?" Chase paused to roll his eyes in disbelief. " _Right_."

"Which brings me back to my original question: should I wear my black vest or white vest?"

Chase blinked, once, twice, slowly. "Gill, they're identical.

"Are you _blind?"_ Gill asked incredulously before pointing frantically at the black vest _"_ The black one has a subtle pinstripe pattern and silver buttons." He inhaled sharply and gestured furiously at the white one, his finger roughly colliding with its silk material. "Whereas the white one has silver buttons and –"

"That's it, I'm getting Kathy from out back," Chase interrupted loudly, then, with an exasperated sigh, strode over to the backroom and banged on the door. "Kathy! _Kathy!_ Gill needs help picking an outfit for his date with Angela tomorrow!"

Shimmering, golden hair haloed Kathy's face as she poked her head out of the doorway. "Sheesh, quieten down or Toucan Island will you hear you." Landing on Gill, her emerald eyes lit up. "What's this about clothes for a date?"

Leaning conspiringly towards Gill and smirking, Chase cut in before he could answer, derisiveness lacing his tone. "If you're lucky Gill, she might even paint your nails and do your lipstick for you."

"Shut up or take this seriously, Chase," Kathy said and Chase pinched his fingers together to make a zipping motion on his lips. Satisfied, she beamed at Gill and wandered over to where he was seated. "A first date is one of the most important milestones in any relationship." She clapped him softly on the back. "I am so excited for you, Gill."

There was a deafening scrape of wood slicing wood as Gill leapt out of his stool. Stricken, he said: "This entire conversation is absurd!" The amethyst specks in Chase's eyes brightened victoriously and he turned to face Kathy, as if to say: _he's seen the light._ This expression vanished almost at once, when Gill continued with: "It's not a first date or _any_ kind of date."

"What is it then? _A business meeting_?" Chase said, scoffing; Kathy glared furiously at him.

"It's two people watching a celestial event together." Gill replied as he sat back down and, until no evidence of his momentary spiral was left, he preened; he straightened his jacket, adjusted his tie, smoothed the white-blonde strands of his hair, and dusted imaginary lint off his pants. He could not, however, erase the streaks of red that blazed feverishly on his cheeks.

Kathy and Chase watched on, both silent and incredulous. Once Gill had finished, the former spoke up: "Is this some sort of weird joke only you two would find funny? Seriously, the rest of us grew out of pranking when the carpenters broke the mine cart trying to escape with Julius' makeup."

"Speak for yourself, Kathy. I never participated in Luke and Julius' prank war, it was childish and immature," Gill replied.

Sighing, Chase shot his friend a withering look. "Let me translate that from Gill to English: this is serious. Angela asked Gill to the moon viewing festival tomorrow and, _apparently_ , his outfit choice is a matter of life and death."

Brushing off the earlier confusion, Kathy clapped her hands together enthusiastically. "How romantic! What are the options?"

Gill froze – _romantic?_ The word gave him a cold, terrified feeling in his chest, as if he'd swallowed ice water too fast. He managed to respond, coolly: "I have narrowed it down to these two vests."

Gil held up both outfits, his fingers trembling as he clutched the hangers. As Kathy's eyes flicked swiftly between them, the feeling of ice inside his chest intensified. He swallowed, nervous.

After appraising the merits of each option, Kathy concluded simply: "The black one."

"Black it is," Gill said as he discarded the white vest onto the stool beside him, its sleek fabric hanging evenly over each edge.

With a dramatic _phew,_ Chase wiped his forehead and propped himself up on the counter with his elbows, orange wisps of hair hanging over his cheeks. "What a relief _that's_ over. I was worried you two would debate colour schemes all night and we wouldn't get the chance to discuss what shoes _I_ should wear tomorrow."

Kathy's expression twisted, as if she had been stung by a bee; her eyes hardened, darkening into a mossy green. Palms clenched and lips taut, she leaned towards the chef. "Okay then smartass, who are _you_ taking to the festival tomorrow?"

Chase tilted his shoulders back and shrugged. "A bottle of whisky."

"What a perfect match, you're both impossible to swallow. I'll order you a blue feather," Kathy replied, and whilst her voice echoed Chase's acidic tone, a smile tugged at the corner of her lips that smoothed over her expression from earlier.

Gill nodded at Kathy. "Yes, they do have quite a lot in common. I find that spending too much time with either of them gives me a massive headache."

"A Chase hangover!" Kathy exclaimed, slamming her fist onto the counter and giggling. The lingering ice inside of Gill's chest melted and, in smooth and collected chuckles, he began laughing too.

"Are we finished here?" Chase asked bitterly as he straightened the glasses into five by five rows. "Or would you two like a microphone to continue your stand-up act on stage?"

Sheepishly – or, as sheepishly as a Mayor-to-be could look – Gill looked over at Chase. "If you don't mind me asking, there is just one more thing." The chef sighed loudly and thrust his face upwards in response. "Do you mind making me some dumplings to take to the festival tomorrow? With all the new leasing agreements, I'm not sure I'll have the opportunity to cook..." he trailed off hopefully.

Chase smirked up at the ceiling, his eyes dancing as they met the dim light of the bar head-on. "Sure. While we're at it, would you also like me to sit with Angela during the festival and walk her home?"

"T-that won't be necessary!"

* * *

An assortment of picnic blankets dotted the grass of Flute Field, all tiny pops of colour on the grassy field. Sprawled on or around them were happy couples and families; everyone was awaiting the moment when the sun would dip below the horizon and the moon would rise, igniting the sky like a brilliant, silver flame.

Everyone, that was, except Gill. Angela was running late (approximately seventeen minutes so, according to his watch) and each second without her made his heart sputter and swoop, as if a million tiny birds were trying to escape out of his chest. Unable to comprehend why his body was panicking, Gill reasoned with himself that it would be terribly embarrassing if he got stood up by the farmer. After all, if Kathy knew about their outing then it was highly likely the whole town did by now, and it was excruciatingly obvious that he had organised an evening for two; there was a large box of dumplings beside him and a wide gap next to him on the large, red rug.

In a burst of movement Gill's reprieve appeared. It arrived in the form of a slender, slightly freckled figure, who tumbled beside the blonde with the grace of a newborn deer; the stampede inside his chest slowed to a momentary halt. Panting, Angela blew flyaway strands of mahogany hair out of her eyes, before facing the man next to her and apologising. "Sorry I'm late, Flynn – my horse – was being so stubborn!" She inhaled deeply, to which Gill glanced over at her sympathetically. "It took _forever_ to get him inside the barn."

After the initial relief of her presence had worn off, Gill became painfully aware of just how close they were sitting; something jolted to life inside of him, making his stomach lurch. Before responding, and as his abdomen snapped at his flesh, Gill made a mental note to take some pain medication after the festival. "It's no problem, Angela. The moon isn't scheduled to appear for approximately another ten minutes."

"Ten minutes?" The farmer repeated, traces of disappointment in her tone. "Well, I guess we better make the most of them then."

Ignoring the absurd electricity he felt simmering between them, Gill nodded and gestured towards the lunchbox wedged in the middle of the blanket. Opening the lid and peering at the neatly packaged meal Chase had prepared, he asked: "I have these dumplings for us to share. Would you like one?"

"Sure." The honey brown specks in Angela's eyes sparked, so much so that despite the fading sunlight they gleamed golden. She opened her mouth widely and Gill, stricken by the idea of feeding her, stared helplessly between her and the dumplings, floundering. Moments later she burst out into giggles and met Gill's incredulous stare through a shield of eyelashes, her eyes creased in mirth. "I'm just kidding, relax." Still struck silent, Gill could only watch on as Angela plucked a dumpling from the box with her fingers and tossed it into her mouth. After swallowing loudly and smacking her lips, she said, "These are delicious, who knew the Mayors son was such a talented chef?"

Chase's voice, brimming with disdain, shot through the back of Gill's mind: ' _Who knew, indeed'_. He clenched his jaw as he said: "I've read a lot of recipe books."

"I can tell." Angela paused and placed her index finger on the cupid's bow of her lips. "Hmm, I wonder what other talents you have up this sleeve of yours…"

"Sorry, those skills are classified."

"Secret Mayor stuff, huh?"

"You could say that."

Anticipation crackled through the crowd as the last, flickering rays of sunlight were extinguished by the horizon. No one in the crowd spoke, lest they pop the bubble of excitement encasing them. Gill and Angela glanced eagerly at each other, blue eyes striking brown in sheer delight. In revered silence, the pair watched as the moon evolved before their eyes: it blossomed into the heavens above them, silver beams blooming around it like petals. It was radiant, breathtakingly so, and it bathed the festival goers in an incandescent sheen of white. If an atheist was ever seeking proof that deities existed, Gill believed that the sight of this was all they needed; there was no way such natural brilliance could appear of its own accord.

"It's beautiful…" Angela whispered, her voice swelling in awe. With a dreamy sigh she leant forward and stretched out her hand towards the moon, the shining beams of its light filtering in through the gaps of her fingers. "It's so close; I feel like I could just pluck it from the sky and pocket it." She paused and a grin lit up the corners of her mouth. "That'd really spice up my mess of a farm, wouldn't it?"

If yesterday the sound of Angela's name had solidified Gill's heart to ice, then the sight of her stencilled in silver and beaming brighter than the stars triggered a combustion of blood into fire. _Perhaps I'm coming down with the Flu,_ he thought as his skin seared feverishly. As subtly as possible, he wiped the sweat from his brow. "It would," Gill finally agreed as he shrugged off his jacket. "But something tells me it wouldn't quite fit in your rucksack."

Laughing, Angela dropped her hand back down beside her, her tiny palms resting on the picnic blanket. "Damn, I knew I should have accepted Shelly's offer for a new one."

Gill twiddled with the buttons on his jacket, tugging and spinning the round edges between his fingers. "You've never been to a moon viewing festival before, correct?"

"No, but I'm so glad I have now." From the corner of his eye Gill watched Angela's throat ripple as she swallowed loudly. She licked her lips before going on to say, "Thank you so much for joining me tonight. I'm sure the view must get old when you've lived here all your life and seen this –"she nodded upwards at the moon – "so many times."

There was a pause as Gill reminisced about his childhood, one that was spent studying instead of playing, learning instead of experiencing. "Truthfully, this is my first time here." He turned to face Angela and was momentarily dazzled; her brown eyes lit up her entire face, emanating a warmth that should have been impossible given the evening chill. Clearing his throat, he went on. "But, in saying that, I couldn't imagine this getting old."

Angela blinked rapidly in confusion, her eyelashes fluttering like a trapped butterfly. "How have you lived here for so long and never participated in this festival?"

"Studying and learning was always my priority. In fact, I'd say it has made up my entire life so far." He inhaled sharply before going on to explain, "Hamilton was always the one participating in these events and someone had to stay home and pick up the slack."

Angela's eyes flared, incredulous. She shook her head. "Gill, it didn't have to be you. I'm almost one hundred percent sure the town won't go to shambles if you take a couple of hours off."

"You can never be one hundred percent sure about anything. After all, there is always a slim probability that something will go wrong," Gill told her. "But even if I could take that chance, I wanted it do it; I wanted it be me. How else will I succeed my father and become a great Mayor?"

"The townspeople…" Angela faltered momentarily. With the way her brows were scrunched against her forehead, it seemed to Gill that she was struggling to articulate her thoughts. "Everyone here is responsible for Castanet, not just you. You need to trust us."

"I trust _you._ The town has changed for the better since you arrived." As Angela beamed at him, Gill felt an answering smile on his own lips. "You're –" His throat constricted. " _It's_ been enchanting to witness."

Slowly, steadily, Angela leaned towards him and murmured. "I'm glad." Gill's head spun: her proximity was dizzying. _Oh Harvest God, I'm going to faint,_ he thought wildly. _"_ But I should probably let you know there's smoke coming from the lighthouse."

Gill jerked back and craned his neck behind him: only the inky blackness of the ocean and night sky met his panicked stare. "I can't see anything, shall we go investigate?"

It was then that he noticed Angela stifling laughter on her sleeve, the lines visible on her face devilish. "Oh, Gill." Her fingers wove themselves into the soft silk of his tie. At that, at the way the pressure of her hands electrified his chest, Gill's temperature spiked. In panic he prayed that he hadn't caught something more sinister than the flu. "It's wonderful how much love you have for Castanet. We're so lucky to have you."

Gently, Angela tugged at Gill's tie. He could count the freckles on her nose and the eyelashes framing her stare; her eyes flicked to his lips. A surge of heat erupted through him and his face snapped away from hers, so sharply that it sent a stabbing pain through his neck. "I…I think I'm going to faint. I must be coming down with the something." He took a deep breath. "I best be off, I wouldn't want you to catch it or anything."

Startled, Angela released his tie like it was made of fire. "Do you want me to bring you some cold medicine? I have so many saved for mining, it'd be no trouble…"

Gill scrambled to gather his things and hastily seized his jacket. "No, it's fine. Like I said, I'd loathe to get you sick. Goodnight, Angela."

Frantically, in a blur of black silk and platinum hair, Gill was standing. Shreds of moonlight struck Angela on the side where he had been and, had he spared a single glance in her direction as he strode off, he would have noted the overwhelming look of hurt crumpling her face.

* * *

The walk towards Harmonica Town had done wonders for Gill: his heart had settled, the heat pulsing inside his veins had cooled, and the sensation of soaring birds had vanished from his stomach. However, despite all this, he knocked hysterically on the doors of the Choral Clinic until Jin answered. The young doctor looked exhausted. Purple bags clung to pale skin, bruising the underside of his eyes like crescent moons; usually tidy black hair had unraveled into a messy disarray atop his head; scrawny shoulders slumped into the folds of his white coat, as if they were unable to support its weight.

In a tribute to his unyielding compassion for the townspeople, Jin refrained from slamming the door in Gill's face. Instead:"Is there something wrong? What brings you to my clinic so late?"

Gill took a deep breath. "My apologies for disturbing you so late, I just had a sudden wave of sickness at the Moon Viewing Festival."

Sighing, and shoulders drooping even more, Jin stepped aside. "Perhaps you've caught a virus, it _is_ almost winter after all." He beckoned for Gill to come inside the clinic. "Would you like a check-up?"

Grateful, the blonde nodded. "Please, if it's not too much trouble."

"None at all. Come this way."

Once they were seated inside Jin's office, the doctor pulled out a clipboard and appraised Gill. "Before we begin, what have your symptoms been?"

Gill rattled them off: "I've had a fever, some bouts of dizziness, a fainting spell, and stomach pains."

Jin nodded thoughtfully, jotting some words down in his notepad. After a final glance at what he'd written, Jin placed the clipboard on his desk. "Okay, let's begin your check-up…"

* * *

The moon had risen into a tiny, gleaming shilling by the time Gill reached Chase's house, his mind buzzing from his conversation with Jin. Bracing himself for his friend's wrath, Gill tapped the brass knocker on his door, calling out as he did: "Chase, open up!"

Seconds rolled by in silence, then a furious voice bellowed from inside: "The townspeople don't give a damn about what pajamas you wear. Go away!"

"It's not about clothes!" Gill banged once, twice, three times on the door. "Open up!" After an assortment of clunks, thuds and rattles the door was wrenched open, revealing a fuming Chase. The chef was clutching a suitcase so tightly that it appeared the handle might snap off. Gill eyed it curiously. "Chase, why on earth do you have bags packed?"

The suitcase crashed to the ground as Chase threw his arms up in the air. He huffed in the doorway. "Considering it's _past midnight_ I assumed it was an emergency and that we were evacuating the island,

"It's worse than an evacuation," Gill informed him solemnly. "I don't have a plan drafted for this."

Chase sighed. "For what exactly?"

"Jin says I'm in love with Angela," Gill blurted out, thankful that the dark cloak of evening concealed the furious blush springing to life on his cheeks.

"Did he also mention that she's a farmer?" Chase asked dryly.

Gill shook his head, before going on desperately. "No, you don't understand. He told me I had all the symptoms for severe infatuation!"

"You…you idiot." Chase dragged his hands through his hair, clutching orange strands in ferocious disbelief. "You got _diagnosed_? I could have told you that for free!"

Unperturbed, Gill asked the question that had been gnawing at his mind since he departed Choral Clinic. "So, where do I go from here?"

"Home, so I can sleep," Chase snapped, before pausing. The answer, the solution, dawned on his face; to Gill, the look was as bright and brilliant as the sunrise itself.

Moments later, he too saw the light. Together, the two men whispered: _"Kathy."_

* * *

A/N: Hope you enjoyed! Reviews/Concrit are always wonderful!


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